


Sweat and Tears

by anxiousalice



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM scene (punishment), En won't have that, Loki does not want safewords, M/M, Reference to a BDSM scene gone bad, Reference to a gangbang, Reference to self-harm (if you squint), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28729704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousalice/pseuds/anxiousalice
Summary: Loki does not quite live up to his own idea of his lover's needs, and he wants to be punished for it. Insecurity; Loki is really unwilling to use safewords, but En won't have that.
Relationships: En Dwi Gast | Grandmaster/Loki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Sweat and Tears

“What am I punishing you for?” Master asks, his voice gentle. 

“For nothing. You are punishing me because I asked for it. Because I need it.”

“That’s right, baby. Now, close your eyes.” Loki complies. “I am going to keep hurting you until, uh... until you cannot think anymore. You can call you safeword, kitten, anytime. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Master,” Loki nods. He is not fearful – he is hopeful. He wants the horrible feeling of failure, of shame, of guilt to be washed away.

He is stretched on a bench, his knees wide apart and touching the floor on either side of the bench. His hands are tied to the bench’s front. He grasps the edge and breathes deeply. 

“I will use the whip, sweetheart,” Master decides. “I will punish you until you feel, feel better - or until you call the safeword.”

Loki hopes for the former. He is not in a good place, mentally. He wants to hurt himself, and he knows that if he tries, it won’t be nearly as safe as letting Master do it. He would not care for his own safety, but Master does, and Loki whispers, “I want to cry from the pain you give me. Not the pain I give myself.”

“Yes, baby,” Master says after a moment. “Focus on the pain.”

The pain starts. It is not – it is not too much, never too much. Master knows what he is doing. Loki slowly unravels under his whip, the tight coil of suffering in his mind becoming looser with every hit. Soon enough he can leave it be, forget about failure – and just cry, listening to Master praising him.

“You take pain so well for me, baby,” he says, and Loki wails at another hit, “oh, so well. Are you crying, kitten?” Loki nods and cries. “That’s good. I want you to cry, sweetie.”

Loki cries and Loki screams. Loki remembers nothing but the pain and Master. Loki begs him for a while – he is not sure what he is begging for – but then, he stays silent and only cries as the pain slowly becomes unbearable.

He is seconds away from calling his safeword when Master stops. He is a shivering, shuddering, gasping mess – his eyes are sore from crying, and he is dying for some water.

Mercifully, Master brings him a fortifying potion and helps him drink. He remains strapped in on the bench, as Master caresses his hair and tells him how beautiful and strong he is. 

Loki breathes deeply and feels the potion – and Master – work their magic. He is in less pain, and more importantly, he is too tired to feel emotional pain. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, because it is true. He feels like a burden when he is like this. 

“No need,” Master whispers, softly caressing his face. “It was all right to call a safeword at any moment. You should never, never feel sorry for that.”

Loki thinks about it. He knows that safewords are alright, but he does not feel it. “I do not want to deny you anything.”

“It was not me you denied,” Master reminds. Loki finds that now he can think of it without shuddering. 

“It was my idea,” he reminds in turn. 

“It does not matter. Once it’s not fun, it stops. Simple, baby.” 

It was his idea. He wanted to be used by many. He wanted the Grandmaster to stay in his mouth as his court made use of his body. 

He failed, he begged for it to stop at the fifth dick, and then – he called the safeword. 

“I felt like a thing,” he says, his eyes watering. “Useless, disgusting thing, piece of meat –“

“You are precious,” Master says, and Loki’s tears leak out of his eyes. “You are loved. You are not a thing, but if you were, I would not give you up for any, uh, any riches. You would have been the most, most desired thing I would have known.”

“But I am not,” Loki says, as the Grandmaster’s fingers wipe away his tears. 

“No,” En smiles, unstrapping Loki from the bench and gently gathering him in his arms. “My sweet. You are perfect, and you are not a thing.” 

Loki is too tired to doubt that.


End file.
